


At Your Service

by Cherienymphe



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blackmail, Escort Service, F/M, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Older Woman/Younger Man, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: With Tony Stark being a regular of yours, you’re surprised to find that it’s not him you’ll be servicing, but instead the boyish brunette at his side. Tony wants you to make Peter’s 21st birthday special, and you do just that, but what is just a job to you quickly becomes more for Peter.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Tony Stark/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 72





	At Your Service

**Author's Note:**

> NON-CON, DUB-CON, AGE GAP, escort!Reader, jealous!Peter, loss of virginity (m.), mentions of Tony x reader, basically porn with a plot

The bass of the music was cut off entirely as he closed the door, and you took the time to gaze around the spacious studio. It was dark and neat, the far wall made up entirely of windows giving it a modern look, but there was an air of boyish quality to it that made your lips quirk upwards just a tad. The boy -young man, you corrected- was younger than you, but that made him no less handsome, and seeing as he was clearly a good friend of Tony’s, Tony wanted to give him the best.

That was where you came in.

“Shit-! I…I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to ask did you want anything to drink?” he stuttered out, rubbing his hands on his dark slacks.

His nervousness was evident, and you bit back an amused smile as he fought to hold your much more confident gaze.

“No, thank you, but maybe you do…?” you said, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow.

He paused at your light tease before letting out a soft laugh.

“Yeah? Maybe I do,” he agreed, stumbling to the fridge on the other side of the room.

It was clear he was overwhelmed with the options before him, and you got the impression that his impressive stock was not his doing. Your heels clicked along his wood floor as you approached, and you pointed at a red wine.

“I personally like that one,” you told him.

He threw you a sheepish ‘thanks’ before choosing it and setting to work on getting it open. You watched as he poured himself a glass, quickly downing it in one go. You spoke when he started to pour another, hands shaky, and you worried he’d ruin his white button down.

“You know…we don’t _have_ to do anything,” you told him.

His dark eyes snapped to yours, glass halfway to his mouth. He blinked, slowly lowering it to the counter as he gazed at you, relief swimming along his features.

“We don’t?” he breathed, shoulders lowering.

You chuckled, unable to help yourself as you shook your head, pressing your hands onto the counter.

“We don’t. Tony already paid me for the whole night, so honestly…? We could just…talk. I mean…I don’t know anything about you.”

You suddenly blinked, brows furrowing.

“I don’t even know your name,” you said, more to yourself than him.

When you showed up here, all you knew was that Tony had hired you for the night, and seeing as he was a regular of yours, you had been surprised that he would _not_ be your client. He had pointed to the nervous looking young man on the other side of the room and told you that you would be showing the kid a good time, make his night.

 _“Make him as happy as you make me,”_ Tony had said.

The rest of the attendees, most of them familiar faces and the rest you assumed were coworkers _not_ on the team, were none the wiser as you had approached the brunette, telling him to lead the way. They’d been too preoccupied with each other or their drink as he walked you up the stairs, but Tony had been ever watchful, heat rising to the unnamed man’s face as the older one saluted him with a drink.

“Peter,” the dark-haired man informed you, and you smiled.

You stuck your hand out, and he hesitantly took it. His hands weren’t as soft as you expected, surprising you.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Y/N,” you told him.

You watched as he repeated the name to himself, and you turned away to walk around the space. The party, or whatever it was, was still going on downstairs, but the upstairs was a studio style loft apartment. You walked past the couch and approached the windows. You could hear Peter behind you, his steps soft.

“Why do I get the feeling I waltzed into a birthday party?” you suddenly wondered, and Peter chuckled.

“You kinda did. I turn 21 today…”

You spun to face him, a bit stunned, but you eventually threw him a blinding smile. You suspected that he was younger than you, but you would have never guessed by that much.

“Well, happy birthday, Peter.”

He blinked, shaking himself out of whatever stupor he seemed to be in before thanking you. He suddenly swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed you.

“You can take off your shoes if you want. You know…get comfortable…”

You smiled to yourself at the nervous look on his face, and you finally decided to comment on it as you stepped out of your heels. You noticed the way his eyes lit up as he took in your true height.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Peter. What, never spent a night with someone like _me_ before?” you lightly teased.

He didn’t join in as you chuckled, and he suddenly looked embarrassed. You soon found out why.

“I’ve…I’ve never spent the night with anyone…before,” his voice was quiet by the time he finished talking, and your eyes widened.

You looked him over, stunned once again, before blinking. Now things were starting to make a lot more sense, and you wondered what it was with men and rights of passages. Surely, Tony wanted this young man to share his first sexual experience with someone he cared about and not some stranger who is literally getting paid to do it?

“ _Oh_ ,” you said in surprise, suddenly feeling guilty. “…and here I am _teasing_ you about how nervous-.”

“No, please don’t feel bad! Please,” he begged, nearing you.

You sent him a small smile, and he reluctantly returned it.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve been a lot nicer,” you whispered.

Peter shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did so.

“You would’ve found out eventually. Besides, why would I? It’s embarrassing,” he said, making you frown.

“Don’t say that,” you told him, shaking your head. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Peter.”

He scoffed, jaw clenching as he frowned at you.

“I’m 21, and I’ve never seen a girl naked. The guys on the- well, the guys…they never stop teasing me about it,” he grumbled, looking out the window.

“Fuck them,” you said, and Peter chuckled. “I didn’t have sex until I was 26.”

He whipped his head around to face you, eyes wide as he took in your confession. You watched the way he ran them over you, shaking his head.

“No way,” he breathed in disbelief.

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? You think because I make money entertaining men that means I came out of the womb ready to-.”

“No, no,” he hurried to explain. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

He eyed you again, his perusal not so quick now as he slowly traced every curve that your dress did little to hide, eyes darkening ever so slightly. You were surprised to find that you liked that, stomach twisting, and you fought the urge to squirm.

“I just mean…look at you,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours. “You’re gorgeous.”

You’d heard that from many men before, all of them sincere in their assessment, but there was something about the way Peter said it that made your heart flutter. He stated it like it was a universal truth, like he believed it more than he believed anything else in the world. You swallowed and turned to look out of the window, eyes trailing over the skyline.

“I _still_ have to say yes to offers and…I simply didn’t want to. Like I said, lack of experience is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He gave an unsure chuckle.

“Tell that to the guys,” he murmured.

You suddenly smirked before turning to face him, surprised to find his gaze still on you.

“Whether or not we do have sex tonight, you can always lead them to believe that we did.”

He blinked at you, and you shrugged.

“Brag about how your first time was with a woman who made you come 4 times in one night and gave you head that made you see stars. Then you can ask them what their first time was like, and I guarantee you they’ll shut up,” you continued.

Peter’s smile matched your devious one, and you both laughed as you looked away.

“They were all probably bumbling teenagers who came in under 40 seconds and sent the poor girl home sorely disappointed and unsatisfied,” you remarked, rolling your eyes. “Pants around their ankles and all…”

You could feel his eyes on you as he laughed, and you turned to look at him. Peter didn’t look 21. That wasn’t to say that he looked that much older, but there was a hardness to his face that gave away life experience and even wisdom that most 21-yearolds didn’t possess. You certainly hadn’t at that age, but there was a sparkle in his eye, an eager gleam that gave him away though, that revealed his true age.

As if reading your thoughts, Peter suddenly spoke.

“How old are _you_?”

You smirked at him.

“I just turned 36,” you proudly answered, and Peter blanched.

He shook his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him as he flitted his eyes over you again.

“You don’t look it at all,” he said, and you scoffed.

“Do you think we just keel over and die the minute we turn 35? 36 is still young,” you tsk’d, tapping your finger against his nose.

Your smile fell when he hurried to grab your wrist, hold firm as he halted your movements. He pulled you towards him, and you stumbled as you tripped over your feet, taken aback by his strength. His face was so close to yours, and you could smell the cologne he’d put on that morning.

“That isn’t…that isn’t what I meant,” he quietly replied.

You breathed him in and watched as he darted his tongue out to swipe it over his bottom lip. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead as his eyes flitted between your wide ones.

“I just meant that I have an aunt. She practically raised me, and she’s not that much older than you, and…,” he trailed off, eyes lingering on your collarbone and lips as he looked you over again, voice lowering. “You don’t look anything like her.”

Despite the way your heart raced, you gathered yourself enough to speak.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that I _don’t_ remind you of the woman who raised you,” you joked.

Peter didn’t laugh with you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took his free hand and raised it to your shoulder. His fingers danced along your skin as it slid to your collarbone before gliding to the back of your neck, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of it.

“Can I kiss you?”

You gave a slow nod, watching as he seemed to consider something. He licked his lips again, and softly brushed them along yours. Your stomach flipped, the feeling surprising you because Peter was just another client. He was no different from Tony or anyone else, so why did the taste of him have your eyes falling closed of their own accord?

He pulled back, nose brushing yours, and before you could open your eyes, his mouth covered yours in a hungry kiss. You moaned against his lips, unable to help yourself, because while Peter lacked experience in bed, he knew how to take your breath away. Both of his hands were on your neck now, tilting your head to accommodate him, and you had no choice but to follow as he moved back.

You gasped into his mouth when he suddenly spun you, understanding dawning on you when he pressed his hands onto your shoulders. You lowered yourself to his bed, looking up at him and preparing for what you thought he wanted, only to be surprised when he fell to his knees before you.

“W-what are you-?”

“I’ve only done this once,” he said, sliding his hands along your legs and underneath your dress. “…but she really seemed to enjoy it so…”

You watched him as he dragged your underwear down your thighs, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder. You were taken aback by the hungry look in his gaze, heat coiling in your stomach as you realized what was about to happen. He looked at you, face serious, and you blinked, shaking yourself out of whatever daze you seemed to be in. He looked at you like he was waiting, and hesitantly, you laid down.

You swallowed, eyes on the ceiling as he spread your thighs, pushing them towards you as he lowered. You could feel his breath on you, and you involuntarily clenched. It was crazy how long you’d been doing this, and yet, you couldn’t remember the last time a client made you feel so…nervous. There was no more time to think about that because Peter’s tongue tasted you, and you jerked, stomach clenching just before he dove in.

You sharply inhaled as he swirled his tongue around you, lips sucking on your lower ones, and you reached out to twist his bedding in your hands. He moaned against you, the feeling seeming to vibrate throughout your entire body, and you let out a broken moan too. One of his hands let you go, sliding along the bed until it found yours. He placed it on his head before gripping your thigh again, and you did the same with the other as well.

The feel of your fingers in his hair seemed to spur him on, and your eyes rolled as he laved his tongue against you. You could see why some unnamed girl who he was with enjoyed this, and you bit your lip when he slid a finger inside of you. It wasn’t hard to tell that Peter aimed to please, and you hissed when he curled his finger inside of you, pushing another into you. It wasn’t long before you were coming undone on his tongue, and he licked at you like a man starved.

His face was wet when he rose, and chest still heaving, you reached out to pull him into a kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips, and you supposed that he earned the right to be smug. His eyes flittered between yours when he pulled away, face flushed as his chest heaved. You opened your mouth to speak when his hand came up to your chin, his fingers running over your lips and smearing what was left of your lipstick.

“Show me…,” he whispered, voice trailing off as he brushed his nose along yours. “Show me how to touch you. How to make you feel good…”

Heat settled into the pit of your stomach as his words hit you, and you laid your hand on his chest. You couldn’t recall ever hearing those words from anyone before. With your profession, most, if not all of the men were hellbent on impressing you. They knew you had other clients, so they were all determined to be your favorite by experimenting, trying out new moves, and even bringing things into the bedroom they’d seen someone use in some crappy porn video.

Every single one of them was always too focused on what you thought of _them_. Their build, their hands, their stamina. Sure, they wanted to make you come, but at the end of the day, it was more for themselves and their own ego than your actual pleasure, and yet…

Here was Peter, this man who could barely be called that at all, this _virgin_ asking you to show him what women liked. What _you_ liked. He wanted to actually listen and learn, and you thought to yourself that he was going to make a wonderful lover, hell even boyfriend or husband someday.

“Okay,” you said, pushing him back, and he allowed you to do so.

His eyes sparkled as he laid down, gazing up at you as you straddled him. You suddenly felt nervous as you started to unbutton his shirt, and you didn’t know why. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d felt nervous. Not even with Tony, because while, yes, he was the great Tony Stark, he was still a man just like any other. When you got Peter’s shirt open, eyes taking in his muscular figure with surprise, it hit you as to why.

Peter’s first experience with sex was going to be with you. What would happen tonight would set the very foundation for his relationship and feelings with sex forever. How he viewed sex from here on out was entirely up to you, and your shoulders felt incredibly heavy all of a sudden. Peter would always remember you, one way or the other. You danced your fingers along his torso, and Peter reached up to grab your hands.

His eyes were heated when you gazed into them, and you watched the way the corner of his mouth curved upwards. His fingers played with yours, and it was only then did you realized they were trembling. He ran his eyes over you, his gaze lingering on the expanse of your neck before he spoke.

“You seem nervous,” he quietly said, and you bit back a smile.

“…would you believe me if I told you I am?”

You pulled on his hands, and he sat up, slipping out of his shirt and watching as you reached for his pants.

“Why?”

You paused to glance at him.

“My first time was great, but I know that isn’t the case for everyone…most people, to be honest, but I don’t want you to be like most people.”

“I couldn’t possibly not enjoy this,” Peter scoffed, and you shrugged, sliding off of the bed to lower to your knees.

Peter’s hands gripped your shoulders before you could undo his pants, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. His jaw was clenched, gaze intense as he looked down at you, and confusion filled you when he pulled you back up.

“While I’m sure you’re great at that, I really want to be inside of you.”

You chuckled at his eagerness, and he pulled you back onto him, hands sliding your dress up.

“I’ve waited 21 years for this…I’m not waiting another minute,” he murmured, peeling the black material off of you.

He sharply inhaled at the sight of your red bra, the lace complimenting your breasts nicely. You had been under the impression that you were going to be with Tony tonight, and you knew the man liked red. You didn’t know how Peter felt about it, but if the way his dark eyes took you in was anything to go by, you’d say he enjoyed the color red too. Or at least enjoyed it on you.

You kissed him, helping him slip out of his pants, and a gasp escaped your lips as he pulled you onto him, his member hard and warm through his boxers. You looked down, smiling at the silk material, and you got the feeling a certain superhero had gotten them for him. Peter’s hands landed on your waist, and you placed your own over them, sliding them up to your chest.

“Some girls like it rough, but when in doubt, be gentle,” you told him, taking in a shaky breath as he brushed his thumbs over you.

Hearing that, he repeated the action, lips finding your collarbone as he did so. Your lashes fluttered as you ground yourself against him, and Peter let out a broken moan. One of his hands moved to your neck to bring you down into a kiss while the other slid to your back. His hand massaged you, repeating his earlier action as soon as your bra was gone while you reached to rid him of the black material hanging on his waist.

You pushed him back to lay down again, your lace briefs the only thing separating you. That didn’t last long as Peter clutched them in his hand, yanking them down, and you helped him do so. Both of his hands were on your neck now, holding you to him as he moved his mouth against yours, a hiss escaping him as you gripped him in your hand. You opened your eyes to watch his face, your own lips parting when his did, a broken moan climbing out of his throat as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

Your eyes widened at the feel of him stretching you, and they remained on Peter as he felt the same. You were mesmerized, eyes completely focused on the way his pink lips fell open, back arching ever so slightly as he dug his hands into your waist. He moaned when you moved your hips, hands resting on his chest to anchor yourself.

Peter was vocal and, having been with so many men who were afraid to even say your name in bed, you liked that. Heat swirled in your stomach as you rose again and again, sliding down so that you met his thighs with ease. His lashes fluttered, face flushed as you clenched around him. His jaw ticked, eyes flashing with something before he pulled you down into another kiss.

His lips were hungry, and you swallowed his groans as you continued to move your hips over him. One hand was pressing into your back, the other digging into your waist as you felt him move. You gasped as he started to push his hips up into yours, the drag of his cock making your heart skip a beat. A choked moan escaped you, eyes flying open to find his gaze already on you.

“Y/N,” he groaned, lips peppering kisses against your jaw.

The hand on your back traveled to your hair, lightly tugging at the root, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deep in the fog of ecstasy, you didn’t register what was happening until Peter had completely lifted his hips, uprooting you until the room was spinning and you found yourself on your back. You sharply exhaled as your back hit his bed and gave a surprised chuckle, his strength throwing you off guard once again.

He seemed to be acting on impulse, suddenly unsure, but the determination in his eyes had you wrapping your legs around his waist. That forced him inside of you to the hilt, and he swallowed, jaw clenching. You leaned up to press a kiss to his throat.

“Do what feels right. It’s okay to take your time,” you whispered.

You felt him nod, and you laid back down, gazing up at him as he held himself above you for a moment. He just remained there, eyes unable to stay in one place for long, unsure of where to look. He pressed his hands into the bed on either side of your head, face taut with both hunger and concentration, hips moving back before meeting yours again.

His thrusts were gentle, a far cry from what you were used to, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of him. After a while, he pushed his knees further up, forcing your legs to fall around him as he pushed them back, and you gasped, hand flying to his back while the other twisted into the sheets. You could feel his eyes on you as your back arched, and you spoke before he could.

“Right there,” you breathed.

Peter listened, holding himself there as he pushed into you, and you threw your head back. You heard him curse, and his lips were on your neck moments later. You could feel yourself fluttering around him, and you knew you were close. The thin layer of sweat that clung to him and the strain on his face told you that Peter had been doing his best to hold off on his own climax, and you rushed to press your lips to his.

“Come for me, Peter. Please,” you whispered into his mouth.

Collapsing against you, he did just that, moaning against your lips. Your own legs trembled at the feel of him twitching inside of you, chest heaving as you clenched around him, and your nails dug into his back. He pressed more kisses into your neck, lips trailing along your shoulder as you came down from your high.

You hadn’t even realized how tired you were until he sat up to look down at you. You tiredly blinked at him, smiling as he kissed you again.

“Happy birthday, Peter,” you murmured, but you didn’t hear his reply.

You were already falling asleep beneath him, a first for you, and you felt his lips on yours as you did so.

  


You collapsed against him as his arms tightened around your waist, and Peter chuckled into the skin of your shoulder as you continued to flutter around him. His own chest heaved, and you pressed your hands into the damp skin of his back, holding onto him as he flipped you both around. As you bounced on the bed beneath him, you thought to yourself that you’d never get used to his strength.

You had taken Peter Parker’s virginity exactly 2 weeks ago, and since then, he’d become something of a regular client of yours. This wasn’t unusual. First time clients normally kept reserving you for days after the first time. Tony himself had paid for 4 more days with you after your first night together, but no one had ever done so for 2 weeks straight. You’d think that with his newfound experience, Peter would take this opportunity to explore. Surely, he had some girl in his life he was interested in. But no, the young man was content to pay for you every night.

You’d come by last night, but Peter had gotten into the habit of waking you up in a way that was hard to hate. The morning after his birthday, you’d taken it upon yourself to wake him up with your mouth on his cock, and he’d been returning the favor ever since. You had a little time before you had to go, and you watched as Peter got up to make his way to the kitchen. You frowned a bit, holding the sheet to you as you watched him search his cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you breakfast,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It wouldn’t be the first time, but you didn’t want to make a habit out of it.

“Peter,” you groaned. “Stop that. You don’t have to-.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he pleaded, eyes wide as they met yours, begging you.

You bit your lip at his pleading gaze, eyes sparkling, and you let out a sigh. You nodded, clutching the sheet to you as you made your way over to him. He was beaming by the time you reached him, and you grazed your fingers down his arm.

“Peter, you already pay me for sex. You don’t have to make it up to me by cooking or anything-.”

“I want to,” he interrupted, grinning at you. “…and not just to ‘pay you back’.”

His eyes roamed over your face before pressing his lips to yours.

“You’re amazing. How can I not?” he murmured into your mouth.

“Well, of course I’m amazing. It’s my job,” you replied, hoping to remind him what this was.

You watched as he frowned, face pinching as he shook his head, ruffling his brown hair.

“Don’t…don’t say it like that,” he complained.

“Well, that’s how it is,” you sang, placing a kiss on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “This _is_ my job, Peter.”

He sighed, back rising and falling with the action.

“I know,” he sadly said. “…but…when it’s just the two of us…it doesn’t feel like it, you know?”

You _did_ know.

Peter definitely wasn’t the first to say that, but he was the first you agreed with. Peter had a way of making you forget that you were currently working, and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. Getting attached to clients, and vice versa, was highly discouraged for so many reasons, but in Peter’s case, it was expected. He had been a virgin, and he was young, so you expected him to develop some sort of attachment to you, but it had been weeks. You’d give it another or so before his feelings waned.

They were superficial, after all.

After you two ate, you finally got dressed, Peter’s eyes on you the entire time you did so. He walked with you out of his apartment and downstairs, kissing you goodbye. He was reluctant to pull away, but you sent him a parting smile when he finally did.

The only reason Peter hadn’t reserved you for tonight was because of some prior engagement that he couldn’t get out of. At least, that was what he told you, but you had your own suspicions. He was much stronger than he looked, and that coupled with the fact that he seemed to be incredibly close with Tony led you to believe that the man was a hero himself. Of course, you weren’t sure as to who, but it wasn’t a concern of yours. He had an identity to keep, and you understood that.

Being a high-end escort for incredibly wealthy clients paid exceptionally well, and with hours to spare before your next arrangement, you took the time to shower and relax. You hadn’t had many moments to yourself since Peter, and you found yourself absentmindedly smiling as you thought of the younger man.

He was unlike anyone else that you’d ever been with, and that was saying something. Peter was always so eager, and not just for sex, but to please you as well. He’d become quite the impressive lover since that first night, taking all of your advice to heart, and there were moments where you swore he got more pleasure out of seeing you come undone than anything else.

Hours later, when you slipped on your dress and got started on your hair, you wondered to yourself how different tonight would be. You hadn’t been with anyone else but Peter in weeks, and you were sure that your client tonight just wouldn’t compare. You had to get rid of such thoughts, reminding yourself that this was just a job, and it would do no good to start comparing all of your other clients to Peter.

You were in your car and halfway across town when you got a call from your boss, the woman who ran the company you worked for. You answered the call, Bluetooth connected, and her voice filled your car moments later.

“Bad news, Y/N. Your client cancelled,” was the first thing she said.

You frowned, taken aback by that not just because it had never happened to you before, but also because payment was nonrefundable. The company you worked for prided themselves on a guaranteed experience.

“He…canceled? Does he know that-?”

“Believe me, he knows. I asked him several times to make sure, but he insisted that something came up that couldn’t be ignored. I’m guessing a family emergency or maybe even problems with a wife,” she sighed.

You rolled your eyes, lip curling in disgust. A job was a job, but you absolutely despised the married men you had to service, and it always took everything in you to keep a straight face whenever you noticed the tan line on their ring finger.

“Should I keep you available for tonight? We have plenty of girls on call, but its up to you,” she offered, and you sighed.

You were already dolled up and out, but there was no telling when or where your next client would be. You didn’t want to wait around all night nor drive all over town just for an arrangement.

“No,” you said, exhaling. “I guess I’ll enjoy this rare night off.”

She was fine with that, and the car was silent once again as you hung up. You made your way to a restaurant, one of your favorites, telling yourself you’d enjoy a nice night out with yourself. You were grateful that you’d put on a more modest dress, something classy that didn’t attract too much attention as you were shown to a table.

The waitress had just left to get you a bottle of Chardonnay when a shadow fell over you. You didn’t think too much of it, but there was a presence near you that couldn’t be ignored, and you were just about to look up when he spoke.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your eyes were wide as they met familiar dark ones, and your mouth parted in shock.

“Peter! How…?”

You glanced around, confusion filling you.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged.

“I told you. I had something I couldn’t get out of, but it was taken care of much quicker than I thought it’d be. I saw you come in and wanted to say hi,” he said with a crooked smile, pushing his hair back into place away from his forehead.

You ran your eyes over him, smiling at the tux he wore, appreciating the way it hugged his frame.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” you complimented.

His face flushed, and he briefly looked down. How he could still act so bashful around you was a mystery, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

“So…? Is this seat taken?” he repeated when his eyes met yours again.

You faltered, at war with yourself.

“No…but… I don’t think its such a good idea,” you told him.

He frowned a bit, and guilt flooded your frame as his shoulders fell.

“Why not?” he quietly asked, genuinely confused.

You sighed, rubbing the side of your neck, and Peter’s dark eyes were drawn to the action.

“You’re my client,” you whispered, glancing around. “We really shouldn’t develop anything outside of that.”

He playfully rolled his eyes.

“It’s one dinner. I’m starving, and you’re starving, and we’re both here…,” he trailed off, and you let out a chuckle at his logic.

He raised an eyebrow at you, a look on his face that told you he knew he had you. With a sigh, you gave a reluctant nod, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“No, it isn’t taken.”

He sat down with a grin, and you noticed the cut on the side of his face, the shallow wound bleeding just a bit. That only added to your suspicions, and you reached across the table with a napkin. He seemed surprised before a sheepish look fell over his face.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“How did you even get past the door?” you wondered, settling into your seat.

His eyes swept over the menu, and he hummed before glancing up at you from beneath his lashes, a smirk dancing along his lips.

“I’m 21, now, remember?”

You nodded with a small chuckle, a smirk crawling over your own lips.

“Of course. How could I forget?”

You both ordered as soon as the waitress returned, and you sipped on the alcohol in your glass as Peter watched you. You looked at him curiously.

“What?”

He shook his head, a soft look on his face as he took in everything from your hair to your lip gloss.

“You just look really pretty,” he said, making your face heat up. “I doubt you got all dolled up to eat alone.”

You set your wine down, straightening just as your food arrived. You finally responded when the woman left.

“No, I didn’t,” you admitted. “I had a client tonight, but he cancelled. A first really, but all the more strange considering we don’t do refunds.”

His eyes were on you as you shrugged, and you watched the way he looked away. Peter didn’t look like himself at all in his sharp tuxedo, dark hair smoothly pushed back to expose his forehead. His pink lips were pursed, jaw clenched as he seemed to be stewing on something. You glanced away just as he looked at you, not wanting to be caught checking him out.

“How many clients do you have?” he wondered, picking at his food.

You hummed.

“Well…if we’re only talking about regulars, including you, that makes 9.”

He bit his lip at that, nodding.

“I see.”

Neither one of you said anything for a while as you both ate, just enjoying each other’s company. You got the feeling that something was weighing on Peter’s mind, but you didn’t want to pressure him into talking about anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

“Is…is Mr. Stark one of your regulars?” he finally asked, face unreadable.

You took a sip of wine before answering.

“He is. Although, I haven’t seen him in weeks thanks to you,” you said with a teasing grin.

He glanced away, doing nothing to hide his smirk. His dark eyes glanced around the restaurant, taking in the nice scenery before he spoke again.

“Are there girls with only one client?”

He seemed to be really interested in your job tonight, but you were more than happy to answer any of his questions.

“Mm…not at my agency. It isn’t unheard of, especially for women like me who deal with more upscale clients who can afford exclusivity, but it isn’t really encouraged,” you said with a shake of your head.

His brows furrowed.

“Why not?”

You sighed.

“Things happen, things can go wrong, and if you lose that client, you basically have to start from scratch with building a clientele. Of course, you’ll get clients, but collecting regulars is how you keep your money consistent.”

Peter hummed at that, nodding in understanding before flagging down a nearby server for another bottle. You tilted your head at him, and he smiled.

“My treat,” he said, and who were you to refuse?

An entire hour had gone by, and you were finally leaving the restaurant. Your arm was looped through Peter’s as you hung onto him, almost wobbling in your heels. You’d had much more to drink than you intended, but fortunately for you, Peter was as sober as a saint.

“This is so embarrassing,” you groaned as Peter walked you outside, and he chuckled.

“I think you’re cute when you’re drunk,” he replied, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course, you do,” you mumbled, looking around with a frown. “How did you get here?”

You had a feeling he didn’t drive, and Peter simply shrugged as he looked at you, hands on your arms now as you faced him.

“That’s a secret,” was his only reply.

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in as your drunk brain took control of your sober mouth.

“You’re one of them…aren’t you? A _superhero_ ,” you whispered, and Peter’s grin widened. “You’re much stronger than you look.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Are you complaining?”

You shook your head.

“Definitely not. Although…I suppose that can be a little concerning, but there are no complaints here.”

Your ankle bent as you took a step forward, and you would have gone straight down if it weren’t for Peter. With a smirk, he wrestled your keys out of your hand, holding them tightly in his as he curled an arm around your waist.

“Okay, so I’m obviously driving you home,” he said, and you tilted your head at him.

Your eyes were narrowed, skeptical as you trailed them over his frame.

“Can you even _drive_?” you mockingly said, but you were also half serious.

It was a genuine question. Peter said nothing as he walked you to your passenger door, depositing you in the seat before buckling you in.

“Watch me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You pressed your hand to your head as he shut the door, unable to remember the last time you had gotten drunk. It wasn’t a feeling you liked, but Peter was here so you allowed yourself to relax. Your head lolled back as he started the car, and you started to mumble out directions. You found that Peter was a good driver. Hell, maybe even better than you, and you felt more than safe with him behind the wheel, a lighthearted conversation flowing between you two as one of his hands rested on your thigh.

He practically carried you upstairs to your apartment, something about too scared to let you walk. He dropped your keys onto the table next to the door as soon as you were inside, and you stumbled away from him as you dug into your purse for your phone.

“Let me call you a cab to get you home,” you murmured, head spinning a bit.

He didn’t say anything, but you heard him approach you, steps heavy. You suddenly blinked, thinking with a frown.

“…or should I call Tony?” you wondered to yourself before shaking your head. “No, a cab. It’s the least…I…can do…”

Your words got quieter as Peter wrapped his arms around you, swallowing them altogether as he turned you around to face him. His eyes were dark, face entirely serious as he stepped forward, only stopping when your back hit the wall. You looked at him in mild surprise, swallowing when one of his hands came up to grip the back of your neck.

“Peter…”

Your voice trailed off when he leaned in to press his lips to your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck. Your lashes fluttered, and you pressed a hand to his chest.

“Peter…we can’t,” you breathed.

Getting attached to clients was discouraged, but _this_? Having sex with any outside of work? That was just plain stupid and asking for a disaster to happen. There was no telling what your boss would do if she found out. Peter slid his leg between yours, thigh brushing against you in a way that had you releasing a shaky breath.

“Sounds like we can,” he hummed, and you shook your head, pushing him away.

“No. If my boss found out-.”

“Then they won’t find out,” he said, pressing his chest against yours, one hand digging into your waist. “Please…”

His eyes glinted with need, and you got the feeling he was barely holding himself back.

“Peter-.”

“If it’s that important to you, I’ll pay you,” he whispered, voice thick with desperation. “I don’t care, just…”

He attached his lips to your neck, pressing his thigh more firmly against you.

“Just let me touch you,” he practically begged.

His mouth found yours again, and you pressed your hand against his chest again, but he wouldn’t budge. The alcohol coursing through your system made your movements slow, and you could only moan as he ground himself against you, holding you in his arms.

“Peter,” you weakly protested as he took a step back, taking you with him.

He ignored you, pressing his back to the wall as he kept you pinned against him, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth. Your purse slipped from your hands, clattering to the floor, and Peter groaned deep in his throat as he lifted you.

You reached out to grab onto the walls as he made his way through your apartment, fingers slipping off of the surface. You gasped when your back met the surface of your couch, Peter’s frame fitting perfectly between your legs. You couldn’t remember who undressed who, but Peter was quick to slip his fingers into you as soon as your underwear were gone, his other hand resting on your neck.

You felt his eyes on you when you finally came around his fingers, unable to swallow down your moans, and Peter’s lips were parted when you looked at him. You watched, transfixed, as he stuck them in his mouth, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or not, but you found that twice as attractive as you normally did.

Eager to be inside of you, Peter wasted no more time before pushing into you with one smooth thrust. You threw your head back as Peter cursed, one hand immediately digging into the arm of the couch beside your head, hips snapping against yours. His other hand grabbed your leg, bending it and pushing it towards your chest, making your lashes flutter.

“Peter,” you murmured, pressing your nails into his chest.

He hummed, leaning down to steal a kiss, groaning when you clenched around him. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the way Peter was pushing himself into you so deliciously, teeth nipping at your lips and fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise. You would think that you hadn’t fucked him in weeks with the way he held you, hips slapping against yours.

When you came around him for a second time, you couldn’t even tell which way was up, face pressed into the couch cushions now as Peter pinned your chest down with a hand on your back, ass lifted to take his unrelenting thrusts. Your breaths only slowed when you felt him pull out, coming on your back as his own labored breathing filled your ears.

Your body felt so heavy, alcohol and fatigue coursing through you, but Peter didn’t care as he stood, pulling you against him. He wrapped his arms around you as he pressed his chest against your back, walking you in the direction of your room.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” he wondered, lips finding the back of your ear as he placed kisses on your skin.

Your feet tripped over each other, vision blurry as you struggled to stay conscious.

“Not…not until the evening,” you breathed, a broken moan slipping from your lips when his fingers dipped into you.

He laughed to himself, a triumphant sound as he forced you through the doorway.

“Good.”

He kicked the door shut behind him.

  


It was a windy evening in New York as you hurriedly made your way to Stark Tower. A shiver tore through you as the cool air hit you, and you were thankful when you made it inside. The identification process took only seconds, what with you frequently being here and all. It felt like forever since you’d seen Tony, and you supposed that by his standards, it had been. You usually saw him at least once a week, and you had gone weeks without doing so.

However, the last person you expected to see when entering the building was the one who was the very reason for that. Peter looked just as stunned to see you, and you didn’t know if it was because you were here at Stark Tower or because you hadn’t seen him in about a week. After your drunken night with him, you’d taken it upon yourself to ask your boss to book you with anyone as soon as possible and for as long as possible.

The night you’d spent with Peter had left you so conflicted. Despite the alcohol that had been coursing through your system, you remembered everything. More importantly, you remembered that you hadn’t fallen asleep until 4 o’clock that morning. Your skin still prickled every time you thought about that night, body heating up as you remembered the way he touched you, and that…was not good. Never mind the fact that you shouldn’t have slept with him anyway. So…you needed time away from him to clear your head and try to get your own feelings back on track.

Peter shook his head, blinking as he broke himself out of his stupor before grinning at you. You returned it, although yours wasn’t as bright, but he didn’t seem to mind. He neared you and started to reach for you before thinking better of it and pulling away.

“Hey,” he said after clearing his throat.

“Hey,” you echoed, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Somehow, he wasn’t expecting you to ask that, and as he struggled to answer, you were reminded of your suspicions. With a soft chuckle, you shook your head, signaling for him to let it go. You didn’t need an explanation.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he wondered.

“Working,” you said with a sheepish shrug, noticing the way his smile fell a bit.

Peter shoved his hands into his pocket as he nodded.

“Oh. Who-?”

“There you are! I was just about to call because you were supposed to be here-.”

Tony cut himself off as he registered Peter’s presence, slowing down as he neared you both. Peter had turned to look over his shoulder just as Tony had started talking, and you reluctantly stepped past him as Tony reached for you.

“I thought you left, kid,” the billionaire said, brows drawn together.

Peter’s smile was completely gone now as he looked between you two, and you avoided his eyes. For some reason, you felt like you were doing something wrong even though you weren’t. This was your job. You had nothing to feel bad about.

“Yeah, I was-I was just heading out and then I ran into Y/N,” he replied, voice low.

He continued before Tony had a chance to reply, hurriedly backing away.

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Stark.”

He waved you both goodbye, and you followed as Tony pulled you along. The dark-haired man was saying something to you as you neared the elevator, but you didn’t hear a word. You glanced over your shoulder just as the doors slid open, eyes briefly meeting Peter’s dark ones just before Tony pulled you inside.

“You look good,” Tony told you as soon as the doors closed.

You forced a smirk onto your lips, forcing thoughts of Peter away as you leaned against the wall.

“I wish I could say the same. You look like hell,” you teased, and Tony playfully rolled his eyes.

It was a half-truth because aside from the suave suit he had on, he did look more tired than usual. One of the cons of being a superhero you supposed.

“Well, I have you to thank for that,” he complained, and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, don’t pout. It’s so unbecoming. I can’t help it that I’m in high demand,” you replied with a shrug.

“Is that what you’d call it?” he wondered, one eyebrow quirked upwards. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“…and yet somehow you managed,” you said with a smile.

“Barely,” he mumbled just as the numbers stopped.

He pulled you into his side as you exited the elevator, hand briefly curled around your waist as he gave you an affectionate squeeze. Tony left you to go to the bar, and you shed your coat, sitting your purse down as you glanced around. Tony hadn’t done any redecorating, you disdainfully noticed. His taste was so flashy.

“So…,” he lowly sang, and you turned to face him.

He was raising an eyebrow at you as he fixed you a drink, and you frowned in confusion.

“So what?”

Tony scoffed.

“The kid. His 21st birthday. How’d it go?” he wondered. “I _did_ promise him a night he wouldn’t forget.”

You scrunched your face up, shaking your head as you neared him, heels clicking against the floor.

“First of all, can you please stop referring to him as ‘the kid’? It’s a little weird considering I’ve seen him naked,” you commented.

Tony pulled a disgusted look at that, and you chuckled, happily taking the drink he offered.

“…and second of all…”

You took a sip, smirking at him as another chuckle bubbled in your throat.

“…it’s a little insulting considering he has quickly become my favorite client,” you whispered.

You bit your lip, swallowing down a laugh as Tony froze, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. He looked equal parts shocked and insulted, but you simply shrugged, turning away from him.

“How’d that happen?”

Was it you or did he sound bitter?

“What can I say? Peter’s a fast learner. Plus, he’s just so darn sweet.”

You heard Tony approach you, and he scoffed.

“Are you saying I’m not sweet? Do I not get you flowers and the best food there is?”

You rolled your eyes at him before tilting your head as you heard your phone buzzing. You neared your bag as you answered him.

“Look, Tony, I like you and all, and as far as business goes, you’re a great client, but let’s face it.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you wrapped your hand around your phone.

“…you’re kind of an asshole.”

He grumbled as you laughed, but it died in your throat as you read the text from your boss. Taking note of your silence, Tony commented on it.

“What is it?” his voice was in your ear as you stood, and you blinked as you read the message for a third time, confusion filling you.

“I…have to go,” you told him, but it sounded more like a question.

It took a minute for Tony to register what you said before he blinked a few times.

“…what?”

“I have to go? Apparently, a client offered three times my rate to spend the night with me,” you explained as you slid your coat back on.

“You’re kidding,” Tony spat.

You threw him an apologetic look while you secured the belt around your waist.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I know it’s been a while-.”

“Weeks,” he interrupted.

“I know, I know, but there’s no way my boss was going to turn this down, and therefore, I’d be crazy to do so too. She’s sending one of the other girls over,” you called over your shoulder, hurrying towards the elevator.

You heard him heave an annoyed sigh, and as you faced him, you mouthed ‘sorry’ just before the elevator doors closed. It was cooler when you stepped outside, but your mind was too hung up on who could have possibly paid that much money for a night with you. You read the address one more time, realizing that you were familiar with that hotel before sliding into your car.

It wasn’t too far down the street, and just as your boss said, the room was under your name. It was one of the nicer suites, but it was empty of anyone else, and you frowned in confusion, wondering if you’d gotten it wrong. However, the red lacy garments on the bed told you otherwise. Having already showered before going to see Tony, you got undressed and hesitantly put them on.

Just as you were sitting down and pulling the sheer thigh high tights up your legs, you heard the door open. You briefly froze before glancing up only for your mouth to part in shock. You sat up straight, completely thrown and confused as your eyes met his.

“ _Peter?_ ”

He simply shrugged at you, and you noticed that he’d changed. He didn’t look anything like the boyish collegian you saw earlier, but instead he reminded you of that drunken night. You ran your eyes over his dark attire, a question on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“I missed you.”

You briefly closed your eyes, letting out a sigh as your shoulders fell.

“Peter,” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know what you’re going to say, but you can’t make me _not_ miss you,” he said, and you crossed your arms over your chest.

He moved to sit down next to you, and you hesitantly looked at him. His dark eyes drank you in, and he suddenly smiled at you.

“…besides, I paid this time.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile, and you shook your head.

“Where did you even get the money-?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come on,” he said, grabbing you and pulling you along with him as he moved up the bed.

You glanced at him, confused, when he pulled you into his arms, your head laying on his chest.

“Did you really pay all of this money and pick out fancy lingerie just to cuddle with me, Peter?”

Your voice was disbelieving, and you swallowed a laughed as he hummed an affirmative.

“…for now, anyway.”

You sighed, listening to his heart beneath his chest. It was beating so fast, and you wondered if you made him nervous.

“You know, Tony’s going to be more upset than he already was if he finds out that _you_ stole me away just to cuddle,” you whispered.

He didn’t immediately respond, and you lifted your head to look at him. His face was unreadable, and he wouldn’t meet your eye, but he eventually sighed.

“Would you…would you ever exclusively see _me_?”

You frowned at him, rearing back a bit as you fully sat up. You ran your eyes over his face, trying to find the humor, but there wasn’t any. You scooted away from him, and he sighed again.

“Peter…”

“I like you-.”

“No.”

“I do!” he argued.

“You…can’t. This is my job,” you sadly said as you looked at him. “Nothing more.”

He frowned at you, skeptical.

“It is to me.”

You looked away from him, wishing this were a bad dream because this was truly something out of your nightmares. You cursed yourself for being so foolish to think of Peter’s feelings as shallow. You should have anticipated that it would be more.

“It’s more than that, and I know you feel it too.”

He reached for your hand, and you pulled away, moving to stand.

“Maybe…maybe I should go,” you whispered.

“No, no, wait,” he hurried to say, rushing to follow you, grabbing your hand.

You looked down at him, guilt eating away at you at the look on his face, but he blinked, and it was gone. He forced a smile onto his lips as he tilted his head at you.

“I’m sorry. Please stay. Don’t… Don’t go,” he quietly begged.

You swallowed, conflicted, and you glanced at the door.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…”

You watched him as he trailed off, clearly struggling with his words.

“You’re just so…pretty, you know? You’re this gorgeous and experienced woman, and you…you don’t make me feel like me. Like boring Peter Parker-.”

“Peter,” you quietly admonished, face falling at his self-depreciating words.

“I am lame. I keep my head in books and I’m obsessed with science and…”

He pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your stomach.

“You’re like one of those nymphs I read about in Greek stories that have this otherworldly beauty and they entrance men and…you’re interested in _me_ , you know?” he mumbled. “Even without the money, you find me attractive and sexy and I just feel so great when I’m with you.”

He looked up at you, eyes apologetic as a brown strand brushed along his forehead.

“I just got caught up in that. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

You sighed, shoulders dropping as you nodded, accepting his apology.

“…come back to bed…please…”

Reluctantly, you joined him as he slid back, pulling you onto his lap. He ran his eyes over your face before slowly pressing his lips to yours. His fingers played with the lace on your figure, and you sighed into his mouth as he brushed his fingers over you.

“I really like this,” he said, lips brushing yours. “I don’t wanna ruin it.”

You both chuckled at that, and he helped you undress, eager to do the same for himself. You happily wrapped your legs around his waist as he rolled the both of you over, Peter’s hands dancing over your frame. You didn’t want to give Peter the idea that you could ever be anything more, but it was hard to think about how you’d go about that when he thrust into you so deliciously.

His hands never strayed from you once, hips slamming into yours as you held onto him. He moaned into your mouth when your nails scraped against his back and arms. You don’t know how long Peter fucked you, but he seemed determined to get his money’s worth. His teeth left marks, and his hand was tightening around your neck when you came around him for a second time. Even when he finally stilled against you, hips slamming against yours for a final time, he didn’t want to let you go.

His fingers dug into your waist as he pulled you against his chest, lips trailing kisses over your shoulder and neck as sleep claimed you.

  


The weeks that followed were…strange. Your life carried on as it normally did, but Peter’s presence no longer made you as comfortable as it did before. At first, it was just memories of the night he’d swiped you out from underneath Tony. You didn’t know how to act around him, afraid you’d give him the wrong idea and encourage his feelings. However, it quickly became more than just that.

Some mornings, you’d find yourself dragging yourself to the bathroom before examining the bruises he’d left behind in the mirror. They kind of hurt, but considering your suspicions about Peter, you thought that maybe he didn’t realize his own strength. Then of course there was the common coincidence of running into him while you were out, usually on the way to meet a client.

You’d been late 4 times already because of him, and of course, you’d gotten complaints. Your boss wasn’t exactly thrilled with you at the moment, but every time you ran into Peter, you just weren’t able to shake him. Even outside of the bedroom, he just took up so much of your time. He always seemed to be everywhere, and something nagged in the back of your mind that it wasn’t coincidence, but against your better judgement, you ignored it.

This morning was one of those mornings where you woke up sore, and you groaned as you rolled over. You heard Peter move behind you, arm resting on your hip as his lips met your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he whispered, sleep still in his voice.

You greeted him the same and sighed.

“I have to get an early start today,” you told him, moving to sit up.

Peter liked to cook breakfast for you whenever you spent a night with him, but you wouldn’t have time this morning. However, he had other ideas.

“No,” he groaned, pulling you back down.

A chuckle left your lips, this behavior not at all unusual, but you waved it off.

“Seriously, Peter, I have to go-.”

Your words were swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you, and you made a noise of protest deep in your throat. You pressed your hand to his chest as he covered your form with his own.

“Peter,” you protested, pushing against him as you felt him brush against you.

He ignored you as if you hadn’t said anything, hands roughly grabbing yours before pinning them down. A frown fell over your face at his actions, and you opened your mouth to tell him this wasn’t funny when he slid into you with one thrust.

You gasped, both in shock at the sudden action, and in horror as you registered what was happening. Peter’s lips met yours again, and you pushed against his hold with no avail. Your body had grown accustomed to his, had grown to welcome and crave his even, so you were unsurprised when he started to push into you more smoothly than he did a minute ago.

You bit his tongue when it slapped past your lips, and he pulled away from you with a frown. His hips didn’t falter once, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you clenched around him, and he hissed at that.

“You love the way I feel inside of you,” he groaned. “Even if you pretend that you don’t.”

“Get off,” you cried, a sob stuck in your chest.

He finally stopped, and he looked down at you with a harsh frown, eyes somehow darker than usual.

“ _Why?_ ” he rudely asked. “So you can leave?”

“Yes,” you spat, and he flinched.

“I’m so tired of watching you leave me,” he quietly said, teary eyed. “I’m sick of it. Sick of watching you leave me again and again just to go fuck someone else.”

“It’s my _job_.”

Peter didn’t like your response, and he resumed his actions, making you throw your head back in frustration, trying to fight off the pleasure he was forcing onto you. Your wrists were sore under his harsh grip, and tears escaped as his lips nipped at your jaw, neck, chest, anywhere he could reach.

“I fuck you better than all of them. You said so yourself,” he murmured, hips meeting yours.

His lips brushed along your neck, and you could feel him smirk.

“…even better than Mr. Stark.”

You were in disbelief that this was happening, and even when he spilled into you, rolling off of you with a heaving chest, you were still in disbelief.

Disgusted and angry, you stomped out of bed, but you could hear Peter right behind you. He grabbed you as you reached for your clothes and purse, forcing you to face him as his fingers dug into your arm.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed at him, fighting to get out of his hold. “I don’t want you anywhere near me. What the hell is wrong with you, Peter?”

His brows furrowed, nostrils flaring.

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he whispered.

“Yeah, well, last night you weren’t a fucking _rapist_ ,” you said, pushing against him. “I’m going to have you arrested.”

He let you go, and you stumbled away from him, hurriedly putting on your clothes.

“Someone would have to believe you in order for that to happen,” Peter quietly said, making you freeze.

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head, disbelief coursing through you. It was hard to wrap your head around what he said, and you blinked.

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

Peter looked conflicted, jaw clenching as he eyed you, but it seemed his desire to have you outweighed his morals.

“Don’t do this, Y/N…because who is going to believe you when I have Tony Stark on my side?”

You reared back, frowning at him. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you felt fresh tears collect.

“I have plenty of people on my side. Plenty who will believe me. I have clients-.”

“The men who pay you to _fuck_ them? Yeah, I’m sure they’re all upstanding gentlemen who will quickly come to the aid of an escort crying sexual assault! They don’t care about you,” he yelled, making you flinch. “You’re nothing to them but a hole with a pretty face.”

Your heart clenched at his harsh words, and he slowly approached you.

“…but not me. You’re more than that to me, Y/N, please-!”

He cut himself off as you brushed past him.

“I don’t care. I’ll report you to whoever I have to until I find someone who believes me,” you threw over your shoulder.

You reached the door just as white webbing flew past you to cover the handle. You froze again, eyes wide as you took it in, terrified to have your suspicions confirmed in the worst way possible. The knowledge that you were stuck in a room with a superhero, a dangerous one who could probably kill you, made you take a deep breath.

“So…you’re Spider-Man,” you whispered, more to yourself than him.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet somehow, you were.

“I am.”

You slowly turned to face him, back pressed to the door as you eyed him. He was still naked, dark hair pushed away from his face as he gazed at you with a look that made you uncomfortable. Your lips trembled, fear gripping you as you shook your head, tears falling now.

“What do you want from me?” you tearfully asked him.

“I want _you_! I just…”

He hurried towards you, and you pressed yourself further into the door.

“I just want you,” he murmured. “I want all of you.”

More tears fell, even as he wiped them away, and you pushed against him.

“I can’t…I can’t just be with you. I have a job and-.”

“Quit it.”

You looked at him like he was crazy, but his face was entirely serious, and you both fought over your purse as he suddenly reached for it. He snatched your phone out of your hand as soon as you grabbed it, one hand pressed into your chest as he held it up.

“Call your job…and quit,” he lowly said, tone leaving no room for arguments.

You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of how to respond. Would Peter hurt you? Hell, he’d already raped you so maybe you shouldn’t put it past him.

“I don’t want to be the bad guy here. I just want to be with you,” he whispered.

He huffed when you still made no move to do as he said, and he swallowed, eyes boring into yours.

“Your parents are divorced, and your father is living in Colorado while your mom is enjoying her single life down in Florida,” he started, making your eyes widen in shock. “Your dad has a steady girlfriend he sees regularly whose usually at his house, but your mom…she lives alone.”

“Peter,” you whispered, stomach churning.

“Don’t make me be the bad guy,” he begged. “Just quit your job and be with me. It’s that simple.”

There were so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to know what happened to the sweet guy you’d met on his 21st birthday. You wanted to know why he couldn’t just be satisfied with what you had. You wanted to ask him what kind of relationship the two of you could even have? Not just with the age gap, but with what he’d done to you? However, with his not so subtle threat against your parents, you simply took your phone and did as he said with Peter watching you the whole time.

The minute you were done, he couldn’t get his hands on you fast enough, and what other choice did you have but to let him do what he wanted to you? His hands and lips were everywhere, and against your will, he made you come again and again as he fucked you against his sheets. Peter didn’t seem to care that you trembled in fear every time he so much as looked at you, as long as you were with him.

When he made you come for the umpteenth time that night, his face between your legs, that was when you finally passed out. You could have slept for an entire day for all you knew, but when you woke up, the smell of breakfast reached your nose, and you groggily opened your eyes to find Peter nearing you with a plate of food.

You warily eyed him as he perched himself in front of you, heart skipping a beat as he reached for your face. He awkwardly dropped his hand when you simply stared at him, and he sent you a sheepish smile.

“I made you breakfast,” he told you, sitting the plate in your lap when you sat up.

You continued to eye him as he sat there, and he eventually sighed before standing. He neared you, and you couldn’t stop the way you flinched, but he leaned down anyway, pressing his lips to your forehead. He remained there, deeply inhaling as he breathed you in.

“I know you think I’m a bad guy, but I don’t care…because you’re finally mine,” he murmured against your skin.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, your eyes meeting his, and a small smirk danced along his lips.

“…all mine.”


End file.
